


Rumours

by Edoraslass



Series: Under My Wing [6]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Amroth Nanny, Domestic workers are my favourite OCs, Gen, Mag the cook, Nall - Freeform, bitty!Boromir, scurrilous gossip, workplace politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2017-12-05 15:52:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edoraslass/pseuds/Edoraslass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Which Nanny Hears A Piece of Highly Disturbing Gossip About Herself</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

~*~

During the first 18 months of his life, I had, by and large, been Boromir's sole companion. He was a friendly baby, rattling cheerful nonsense at everyone from the lowest scullery maid to his grandfather, the Lord Ecthelion. He loved attention, and it did not seem to bother him that he spent his days surrounded by adults.

It bothered _me_ , however. If Boromir had had a sibling, I would not have given it a moment's thought. But it seemed unnatural, somehow, for him to have no contact at all with other children . When I hesitantly suggested to Lady Finduilas that perhaps Boromir would enjoy playmates of his own age, she agreed straightaway. "I had been thinking that very thing," she smiled, "for I had been remembering my own childhood, and how I enjoyed playing with my older sister." 

It was arranged that some nannies would bring their charges to visit and play with Boromir. It was all very carefully organized, of course - invitations were extended to the children according to their father's rank, highest to lowest. If a lord was currently out of favour with Lord Ecthelion or Lord Denethor, his child would not be granted the privilege of such a visit. I did not like this; it would have been better for Boromir to see the same children all the time, but I understood that this would only lead to charges of favoritism being thrown at Lord Denethor and the Steward. 

I was aware that I was somewhat of a mystery to the other women who cared for noble children. I was scarcely seen outside the walls of the Citadel -- when I took Boromir outside, we went to his mother's garden, or to the garden of the Houses, or sometimes strolled the parapets. We never ventured into the City. And, though I had heard no gossip about myself, I knew enough to know that it likely existed. So I had no idea as to how I might get along with the other women.

At first, it appeared that my worries were unfounded. All the women asked the same questions, and I gave the same answers: Yes, it is a great privilege to be in Lord Denethor's service. No, I am not related to Lady Finduilas. Yes, it is a very nice household, yes, I am well treated, no, Boromir is not a troublesome child. I smiled and made chit-chat about the weather and the state of the City dutifully -- though truth be told, I was very bad at doing so. I had never been one for small talk, and I was not about to say anything even vaguely political. I liked my position, and my charge, a great deal, and did not want to lose either because of a careless remark. A handful of the other nannies were friendly and did not push me toward conversation I would rather not have. These women were far outnumbered by those who seemed almost offended that I showed no interest in sharing gossip. I began to dread the visits, for I never knew which sort the visiting nanny would be. 

Boromir, however, was thrilled to discover that there were other little people like him, who enjoyed the same type of games he did. He would run and greet the new arrival -- always a boy -- with bubbling delight, then he would herd the other boy toward whatever toys lay scattered on the ground. Even the children who were somewhat shy soon relaxed and became animated. I was not surprised at his willingness to make friends - I was more surprised at the fact that he shared his things as well as he did. The nursery was always a wreck when his companion of the day finally went home.

Today was no different, as far as Boromir was concerned. Lord Pelinlas' son, Culas,had come to play, and the boys were happily involved in the wooden _éored_ which had been a first-year gift from the King of Rohan. 

I was rather unhappily involved in a conversation with Culas' nanny, a prettily snub-nosed woman called Olleth. She was perhaps five years older than me, but she reminded me of my mother, for she twittered on and on, mostly about clothing, men, and making a good match. Fortunately, she did not seem to require any response from me other than the occasional "That sounds lovely" or "And what did he say next?" She also did not keep a very close eye on Culas, who was inclined to put everything he touched into his mouth, including Boromir's hand. More than once, I went to make certain that he had not gnawed one of the horses into splinters, yet Olleth seemed unconcerned.

I had heard the bell signaling eleven o' clock, and groaned inwardly. Another hour of this woman -- I was not sure I could stand it. At least she had not asked the same dreary questions -- she had been too busy telling me about herself and her numerous suitors and how valuable she was to Lord Pelinlas' household.

"But enough about me," Olleth said out of the blue, turning in her seat to study me, "you have barely said one word! Come, tell me about yourself." 

"There is not much to tell," I said truthfully. "I am sure that you have heard my short history by now." This was said perhaps a bit too tartly, as Olleth's eyes widened for just a moment.

Then she smiled, showing far too many teeth. "Well, yes," she admitted with a laugh that I was sure was affected, "You know how women will talk, when they get together. But I would like to hear more about you - what I've heard is so _dull_! Surely you have stories to tell of your life in the Citadel, perhaps of a handsome guard?" 

"I have been in Minas Tirith not yet two years," I pointed out, using the bland voice I used with my mother when she was being particularly vain, "I have not had much time for handsome men, guards or otherwise." As if I would tell her even if I had such a man.

"What a shame, what a shame," Olleth sighed, "and you so young. Well, I understand, of course -- it is difficult to find time for one's self when one is busy tending to a child." She did not look in Culas' direction, though I did. They were peacefully arranging the horses in a large circle. "Or perhaps someone closer to home has caught your eye?" 

Something about her tone made me glance at her sharply. She was wearing a coy smile, and had one eyebrow arched, as if waiting for me to admit something. I repeated her last words in my head, and did not like the possibility at which I arrived. 

"I cannot get much closer to home, as you say, than a Citadel guard," I said, needlessly straightening my skirts, "but my little Boromir takes up all of my time." He looked up at the sound of his name, smiling, and I smiled back at him. 

"Surely he cannot take up _all_ of your time," Olleth persisted, "why, there must be hours and hours between the time he goes to sleep and the time you finally seek _your_ bed." 

She gave me a conspiratorial look when she emphasized the word "your", and I tried to ignore the way her words irked me. But I could not keep myself from saying, "I am not sure I understand you." 

Olleth studied me for a moment. "Yes, I can see how that wide-eyed innocence act would be appealing to an older man," she said, almost admiringly, and my stomach clenched in sudden anger. "You should cultivate that, my dear. It will serve you well -- but then, it already has, hasn't it?" 

I stared at her in shock, unable to think of a response. She could not possibly mean what I thought she meant. 

She laughed again, and she sounded honestly amused. "Oh, come now! How _else_ would you win such a sought-after position? It is not as if you have rank to spare, is it?" I was still gaping like a landed fish, struggling to find words as she went on. "It isn't unusual, you know. Especially with nannies -- we seem to have a special appeal to our lords." Here she almost preened, as if this was something to be proud of. "You must be quite a sly girl to keep _that_ lord's interest. He's handsome enough, but he seems so cold. You do look a bit like Lady Finduilas, though your eyes are rather bluer --perhaps that's how you drew his attention so easi --" 

"Get out." I was on my feet, nearly shaking in anger. 

"I'm sorry?" Olleth was startled. "What did you say?" 

"I said, get out," I repeated, stalking toward the door. "Collect Culas, and leave at once." 

"What?" Now Olleth was the one gaping. "But --" 

" _Get out_ of this nursery, and do not _dare_ show your face here again, is that clear enough?" I snapped, taking a step toward her, and I admit that it gave me a fierce joy to see her shrink back in her chair. I was struggling to keep my voice down, but from the wide-eyed looks the children were giving me, I had not succeeded. I was too infuriated to be calmed by the knowledge that I might be scaring them. "Culas is welcome back any time he likes, but you are certainly not. Get out _now_." 

"Well -- I --- who do you think you are, to speak to me so?" Olleth stammered as she stood, wisely backing away from me. "You cannot throw me out of ---" 

"I can and I am," I shot back, clenching my fists in the hope that my hands would stop trembling. "You have insulted me, my lord and lady, and the Steward, and I will have you here no longer. Now I say again -- leave this nursery _immediately_ , or else I will call a guard to remove you." 

I had been told by my older brothers that when worked into a rage as I was now, I was rather an intimidating sight, and it seemed that Olleth agreed, for she scurried over to Culas and scooped him into her arms, hugging him protectively to her chest. "No matter how you please Lord Denethor," she snarled as she hurried to leave, "you are much mistaken if you think that the Lord Pelinlas will stand for you threatening me, and his son." 

I had not said one word about harming either one of them, and my hold on my temper failed completely. I jerked the door open, and shouted down the corridor, "Guard!" Olleth went white, then red, and a tiny lucid part of my mind, quickly silenced, realized that I was throwing myself into deep waters indeed. 

A guard appeared as if out of thin air. "Yes, miss?" he said, and eyeing both of us curiously. 

"If you would take Olleth and Master Culas to their escort?" I said, speaking as evenly as I could. "I am afraid that I have a headache." 

"I'm sorry to hear that, miss," the guard said, and though his voice was placid, his eyes were full of questions. "Shall I call for a healer?" 

"There is no need," I assured him with a smile that only made him look at me more closely. "I am sure that it will soon depart."

"As you say." The guard inclined his head, then led Olleth away as she shot one murderous glance over her shoulder at me. 

I shut the door, being very careful not to slam it as I wanted to, then, without warning, I burst into tears. Surely she could not be right. Surely nannies and laundry girls and stable boys and housemaids and cooks and footmen all over the City were not talking about how I had earned my place as Boromir's nanny on my back, or about how I was keeping my position by entertaining the Lord Denethor with my favours. 

Of course they were, I thought bleakly, covering my face with my hands. She was right; I had no rank and no connections. I myself was not sure why Lady Finduilas had engaged me -- what else would total strangers think? 

I could not seem to stop weeping, and I did not even know that I was sitting on the floor until Boromir kneeled in my lap and put his plump little arms around my neck. "No, no," he said, anxiously trying to soothe me, "no, no cry. No cry." Naturally that only made me sob harder, and Boromir looked on the verge of wailing. 

I managed to get control over myself and hugged him tightly, not wanting to upset him further. "I'm all right," I assured him, though my voice still wobbled, "I'm all right, Boromir." 

He did not look as if he believed me, so I gave him a weak smile. He was still not convinced, but his face did ease some. "Hurt?" he asked, looking for my injury. "Kiss better?" 

"Kiss better," I nodded, almost breaking down again at his worry. He planted a very wet kiss on my cheek, and snuggled against me, pleased with himself. 

It was not until I had put Boromir down for his nap until my anger wore off enough that I understood how big of a fool I had been. If I had been able to hold on to my temper, and continued to smile pleasantly, feigning ignorance, none of this would have happened. But no, I had to fly into a rage and throw that stupid woman out of the nursery -- I had to call a guard to escort her out, and the news of that would soon be all over the Citadel. My lord and lady would certainly want to know what had made me do such a thing, and I would have to tell them. I trembled at the thought -- I did not know who it would be worse to face, Lord Denethor or Lady Finduilas. 

There was only one thing for it. I would have to go to Lady Finduilas and confess what I had done before she heard it from anyone else. 

Before I could lose my nerve, I sat down and wrote a note to Lady Finduilas' secretary, requesting to speak with my lady. I rang for a page, and jumped when a knock came at the door almost simultaneously. Opening it, I saw a page standing there, and we looked at each other silently for a moment. 

"This is for the Lady Finduilas…" I started. 

"This is from the Lady Finduilas…" he said at the same time, then he trailed off, chuckling. 

I could not even smile at him, so we exchanged notes, and he left with a courteous "Good day, miss." 

Lady Finduilas had already heard of the incident, and wished to speak with me tomorrow at this same time. And what was more, she was coming to the nursery, rather than inviting me to her sitting room. My stomach began to ache. 

What was I going to say? I could not just blurt out the vile things Olleth had said! What was _she_ going to say? I could be sent home in disgrace -- I thought it quite likely that I would be. No-one wants a tempersome woman raising their child. I did not want to go home; I liked my work, and I loved Boromir dearly, even if I was not fond of Minas Tirith. Oh, what if Lord Denethor was there as well? How would I be able to face _both_ of them? 

Boromir was restless, and he shrieked and shrieked when I tried to put him down for the night. Perhaps he sensed my unhappy mood. I was too troubled to fight him, so instead I held him, pacing the floors, hoping he would drift off to sleep. 

I wished I had someone to talk to, someone to tell all that had happened today. It would have been a weight off my chest just to put my fears into words, but I had no such --oh. _Oh._ Yes, I did.

I went weak in relief. We would walk the halls --the guards were used to our night ramblings when Boromir could not sleep; they would think nothing of me taking a new route. We would walk the halls right into the kitchens. 

"Come, Boromir," I whispered into his ear. "We are going to see Mag."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of Mag's dialogue written by her creator, Ann.
> 
> ~*~

Once I had decided to speak to Mag about Olleth's rumours, I felt much less anxious. Most of what I knew of Mag came from observation. I had half a day off every week, and, as I did not really know what to do with myself, I often spent time in the kitchens. To be honest, I was a bit lonely, and had not found a group of friends in which I felt completely comfortable. The kitchen was always an inviting place in which to spend a few hours. Neither Mag nor the head cook seemed to mind who lingered there, as long as no-one got in the way of the day's work. I usually sat at a table in the corner, watching the hustle and bustle, and being more than mildly amazed at how smoothly things ran. Mag was very cheerful and lively, always had a friendly word for anyone who entered, and more often than not, some freshly-baked treat as well. We had spoken in passing several times, and she struck me as a no-nonsense woman, but generous and thoughtful as well.  
  
So I gathered up a shawl to cover us -- the stone corridors could get quite chilly at night -- and headed for the kitchens. As I walked, however, I wondered how I was going to bring up what was troubling me. I had never spoken at length with Mag -- what if she thought I was being presumptuous, bringing such a matter to her? I did not expect her to solve my problem-- I simply wanted another person's opinion on the situation, and I thought Mag would be ideally suited to give such advice.  
  
Boromir showed no interest in our short journey, and was content to rest against me while we walked. When we reached the kitchens themselves, however, he sat up in my arms and looked around with wide eyes. Of course he had never been to the kitchens before, and I could see he was fascinated by everything the room held -- the stoves, the chopping blocks, the spotless copper pots hanging from the rack, the huge fireplace, though this late, the fire burned very low. He did not struggle to get down, which told me how tired he was, for all that he refused to sleep. A few hours ago, he would have been begging to explore every nook and cranny.  
  
Sure enough, Mag was still there, and, thankfully, she was alone. She was wiping down countertops, and she looked up when we entered. For a moment, she looked startled -- I suppose we did look an odd pair, me with my loose hair and rumpled dress, sleepy-eyed Boromir in his nightshirt, the two of us wrapped in a shawl. "One of you is up past your bedtime," she said, smiling and coming toward us.  
  
I smiled back, adjusting Boromir on my hip. "Have you had the chance to meet Boromir?" I asked, and her smile grew wider.  
  
"I met him once, when he was just a wee babe," Mag replied, chuckling. "His father the Lord Denethor came 'round, showing off this lad to any who would look. Since then I've not seen him except from a distance. How he's grown!"  
  
"Boromir, this is Mag," I told him, and he studied her. "Will you say hello?"  
  
He crumpled his forehead thoughtfully, then asked, "Rusks?" and I could not help but laugh. Though Boromir was past teething, he still loved the hard crumbly rounds of bread.  
  
"Yes, duckling, this is the woman who makes your rusks," I agreed, and Mag looked inordinately pleased. "I talk to him about …well, everything. Apparently he remembers who prepares his favourite treats."  
  
Mag fairly beamed at this. "You just tell me what his favourite treats are," she told me, "and he can have them whenever he likes." She was watching Boromir as intently as he was watching her, and I was struck with the odd certainty that Mag was very partial to my little man, though she'd not seen him more than a handful of times.  
  
"Would you like to hold him?" I asked impulsively. "He is very friendly, and loves the attention, especially when he is this sleepy."  
  
Mag looked taken aback. "Oh, no," she said, shaking her head. "I'd be afraid I'd drop him and break his head, and then where would we be?"  
  
I did not understand this fear-- but then, I'd been holding children since I was five years old, and it was as natural to me as breathing. I would likely react the same way if Mag asked me if I would like to bake a pie.  
  
"Now what has brought the two of you to the kitchens so late?" she wanted to know. "In search of a snack, or perhaps just a nice cup of tea?"  
  
"Oh, tea would be lovely, if it's not too much trouble," I said, just as Boromir piped up hopefully, "Rusk?"  
  
Mag laughed, reaching out to briefly touch Boromir's bare foot where it peeped out from under the shawl. "Tea is no trouble," she assured me, "and I imagine that I could find a rusk or two as well. Now sit down, and make yourself comfortable."  
  
I sat down at one of the tables, adjusting Boromir in my lap, as Mag busied herself with the tasks at hand. I was a bit surprised when she set three mugs on the table along with the teapot. I said cautiously, "Mag, I do not think Boromir is quite of an age for tea…"  
  
She poured a teaspoon's worth into one of the mugs, then filled it the rest of the way with milk I had not even seen her warm up. "Bit of cinnamon and honey in there as well," she said, winking at me as she joined us at the table. "That ought to ease him towards sleep."  
  
"Rusk?" Boromir asked, eagerly reaching for the plate. "Please thank you?"  
  
"Ah, and see how well-mannered he is!" Mag smiled, handing him one. "Such a lovely child, though quite a handful, I'm sure."  
  
"Oh, he is not as rowdy as some I've cared for, " I replied, thinking of my younger siblings. "And there is only one of him, after all. He's not yet difficult to keep up with."  
  
"I'm sure that's a comfort," Mag said, watching Boromir as he began to eat. "And you - are you enjoying life in the White City, and your position here? It's quite different from Dol Amroth, I'm sure, though I've never been there. I've heard tell it's a lovely city too. All that seafood must be a treat. Or do you become sick of it after a while?"  
  
"It is....different here, you are certainly right about that. Busier, I guess. I did not really expect Minas Tirith to be so large!" I admitted, remembering how overwhelmed I had been when I first arrived. "As for me, I have never tired of fresh seafood -- it is one of the things I miss most." I had been surprised at how much I missed having seafood whenever I pleased -- here, it was a treat, not an everyday dish.  
  
Boromir was trying to lift his mug, but could not quite get his small hands around it, so I helped him lift it, and held it while he drank. "And I am enjoying my position - Boromir is a sweet boy.  He has recently had some of the lords' sons come in to play, and he seems to enjoy that." I could not have asked for a better opportunity to approach the subject.  
  
"Was that your idea?" Mag asked. "What a clever girl! 'Tis true, not that he's a spoiled child -or not overly spoiled, you keep a good eye on that. But he'll need to learn to get along well with others, if he's to lead. What kind of games do they play?"  
  
I blushed, for it was not often someone called me "clever". "Thank you -- yes, I thought he needed some companions his own age.  I have many siblings, and it seemed odd for Boromir to have no children to play with.  They play whatever strikes their fancy - he's got so many toys to choose from! Often they like to pull out everything he owns and play with all of them together." I thought it was curious that Mag was so interested in this -- most women without children could have cared less what little boys did to occupy their time.  
  
Boromir was after his mug again -- rusks were by nature very dry --and again I held it for him. "Drink more slowly, Boromir - you are getting it all over." I dabbed at the spot on his nightshirt with the shawl, and went on, carefully choosing my words. "The other nannies... they mostly sit and chat with me.  I've not had a chance to meet most of them before, and...they seem to like to gossip a great deal."  
  
"Ah, gossip! The City runs on it, more than water or food it seems sometime!" Mag exclaimed knowingly. "Those magpies are always chattering away. There's an old expression, too - 'knowledge is power' -- and there are always some to want to trade in that kind of coin, if you take my meaning. They'll exchange pieces of stories, embroider what little of truth they've got, and make up the rest." She laughed, and I wondered if she was going to dismiss my fears as just something that I would have to put up with for as long as I lived here. But then Mag cast an appraising eye at me. "Has one of those magpies said something that is hurtful to you?"  
  
I wiped milk from Boromir's face, then took a long drink of tea, giving myself time to screw up my courage further. It was, after all, why I had sought Mag out. I took a deep breath. "Have you...I am sure you hear a lot of things, with all the people that come in and out of your kitchen ...have you heard anyone say that I ...that there is something…um...inappropriate between me and Lord Denethor?" The words spilled out in a rush, and I could feel my face turning bright red.  
  
Mag choked on her tea. "With the Lord Denethor? That cold.…" she was giggling as if she were years younger than me, which, somehow, put me at ease. "Forgive me....it's just that...him, of all people!" She lowered her voice conspiratorially. " Now his father, Lord Ecthelion....now he was a one. They warned us about him, first thing, and so we warned all the other new ones as they came along. Free with his hands, he was, and there are some as said he was like that with the lads as well ...but now I'm gossiping, just as bad as those magpies! But Lord Denethor....no, he's not ever a one for anything like that." She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.  
  
I was blushing furiously, but managed to reply, "Mmmmm, yes, I was warned about Lord Ecthelion, not that I am ever in his presence. So....so you've heard no rumours about… ...about how I got this position? One of the women -- she told me that everyone believes I earned my place by....um…"  
  
"By what? Oh -- " she took a look at my face and I am sure saw that I was too embarrassed to be more specific. "Oh, my dear...not that you're not a lovely lass, but no, oh no, not a bit. Anyone who works here would laugh at such a tale as well. We know him, you see, and of course we know you, too. But those outside, as well as inside, have such little lives of their own that they need to create tales to fill up the holes in their own brains."  
  
I was a bit confused as to how anyone in the Steward's household knew me, considering how little I interacted with any of the other servants, but Mag's assurance did bolster my confidence. "I suppose it is understandable, when people talk about those in a high position. But I am just Boromir's nanny. Why would she --why would anyone- make up something like that about me? I do not know her -- I have never done anything to harm or upset her...well, until today."  
  
"Jealous, probably," Mag nodded, smiling as Boromir reached for another rusk. " 'Tis a goodly position, and there was quite a bit of curious talk as to where and how a nanny would be found. You were quite unexpected, dear, to most, and likely put a nose or two out of joint. But we all thought it understandable for her to want someone from her own land, to be a comfort to her among strangers."  
  
I bit my lip, realized I was doing so, and made myself stop. "I do not know that being from Dol Amroth will help me," I confessed, unnecessarily straightening Boromir's hair. He was oblivious to all, perfectly content with his rusk and his sweet milky tea. "I got very angry at the other woman  -- she cannot sit and say such vile things in the Steward's house and expect me do nothing! So I...um...I threw her out of the nursery. Had her escorted out by one of the guards."  
  
"You did _what_?" Mag began chortling again.  
  
"I threw her out," I repeated, half-mumbling. "Olleth was just --sitting there, looking smug, as if she had caught me with my hand in the cookie jar! And she was so -- oh, she made me so _angry_!" My voice had risen with indignation just remembering the look on Olleth's face, and Boromir looked at me.  
  
"Angry?" he said anxiously, touching my chin.  
  
"No, Boromir, I am not angry," I told him, lowering my voice to a less strident level. "I'm sorry, little one. I did not mean to be so loud." He beamed at me, and turned back to his rusk, which he was breaking into pieces and dunking into his tea.  
  
"Olleth, was it? Good for you!" Mag declared, and something in her voice made me think that this was not the first time Olleth had roused someone's temper. "And what did you say to her?"  
  
"I told her to get out, and that she was not welcome back," I said, "and that she had given great insult to the Steward's entire family. She would not leave immediately, so I -- I called one of the guards to help her on her way. And now…" I sighed, "Lady Finduilas wishes to speak with me tomorrow about this, and -- I do not know what I shall say to her! I cannot simply repeat those things to my lady... "  
  
Mag was still chuckling. "…Called for the guards...oh, so that was what they were talking about! I heard something about Olleth, and 'mad as a wet hen'. Now it all makes sense.…"  
  
"Oh,no," I gasped. "You have already heard of this?  Oh.... so it is already all over the Citadel." My stomach was churning again. Lord Denethor had likely heard as well. Oh, no…  
  
"Well, there's another example of how fast word spreads here," Mag shrugged, "and a proof for you that there was no gossip, ever, about you, else it would have been all around already."  
  
I had been so worried that this very obvious fact had escaped me. "Hmmmm.....you are correct about that. I just -- I do not really know what goes on in the Tower. So.....do you think that the Lady will be angry with me? I -- I do not want to be sent home. I do not know how to explain my actions without saying something -- offensive."  
  
"Sent home?" Mag scoffed. "That's the silliest thing I ever heard! Why should you be sent home because that girl is a ninny?"  
  
"Because I lost my temper with her -- it is not a very good example to set for Boromir," I explained. "And if Lord Pelinlas decides to take offense, it could create a great deal of trouble. No-one wants a servant who starts trouble."  
  
Mag shook her head, looking sympathetic. "Lady Finduilas may look fragile, but she's no fool. She comes from a royal house, remember, and she's seen toadying. And heard a fair bit of gossip, true or not in her days, as well. And she knows you. She knows your patience, and your affection for our dear Boromir, and the care you put into everything you do. She'll hear you out. You have nothing to fear from our lady. She is the kindest, sweetest lady who ever lived, but strong underneath."  
  
Mag was so confident that I was starting to feel a little ridiculous about working myself into such a state. "You know her better than I do," I said, "I do not speak to her very often, and you have been in her service much longer. I have been worried that she is the type to be hysterical over such things....hysterical woman do not often let you tell your side of the story." I was thinking of my mother -- she was apt to succumb to the vapors if the bread was slightly too brown.  
  
  
"Hysterical? You mean with crying, and carrying on, and such things?" Mag considered a moment. "No, I've never, ever, heard of such behavior from our Lady Finduilas."  
  
"More?" Boromir asked, showing me his empty mug. "More tea?"  
  
"I do not know if there is more," I said, looking to Mag, who nodded with a smile. "And I would like it if you asked properly." I did not believe in talking to young children as if they were incapable of understanding me, and had always spoken in such a manner to Boromir. He had been able to say "please" and "thank you" for six months, and I insisted that he do so, most times.  
  
"More tea please?" Boromir directed his words at Mag, giving her a smile that could melt a heart of stone. She gave a delighted laugh, and went to refill his mug.  
  
" I suppose the thing to remember is our Lady Finduilas wasn't born this very morning," Mag continued, "and has seen and heard things in her time - she knows people like to gossip; but she knows you, and she knows her lord, and I daresay she knows Olleth, too, and her ilk."  
  
"Perhaps I am just used to the way my mother carries on," I said wryly as Mag returned to the table, and her smile grew wider when Boromir thanked her very sweetly. "Perhaps it will not be as bad as I have been thinking...I just do not want to upset the lady. But you are right - Lady Finduilas certainly knows her lord, and such a thing would be impossible to keep a secret, if it were happening. And you are right again -- I have been so concerned about myself that .. I forgot that the lady has probably seen worse things than a nanny losing her temper at a spiteful woman."  
  
"You have nothing to be afraid of at all, dear," Mag assured me, patting my hand comfortably. "It'll work out just fine."  
  
I gave a hugely relieved smile. "Thank you, Mag -- I have been fretting myself sick.....I feel much better now…"  
  
There was a noise behind me, and Mag looked up as another woman entered the kitchens. "Nall!" she exclaimed, eyes softening with a light I could not quite place. "I didn't realize it was that late already. This is my good friend Niallis. Nall, this is Boromir's nanny."  
  
"Hello, Nall," I said, inexplicably feeling as if I were intruding. "Do you work in the Citadel as well? I do not know many people."  
  
"I work in the laundry, over at the Houses," Nall said. "I've seen you, though, when you've brought our little lord over to the garden. How he's grown!"  
  
I laughed as I stood, hoisting Boromir back to my hip. His eyes were heavy, though he was still watching with interest. "And keeps growing, too. Boromir, will you say hello to Nall?"  
  
Mag rose, and began lowering the flames on the lamps, closing up the kitchen for the night.  
  
Boromir hesitated an instant then said, "H'llo," and quickly hid his face with his hands.  
  
"When have you ever been bashful?" I teased him, then said, "thank you, Mag. I did not mean to take up so much of your time, and you have been so helpful."  
  
I wrapped the shawl tighter around Boromir-- his legs seemed chilly to me. As I was doing so, I saw Mag's arm slip around Nall's waist, as Nall lightly rested her head on Mag's shoulder. Then I understood Mag's brilliant smile at Nall's appearance.  
  
We paused at the entrance to the kitchen, and Mag shyly reached out to stroke Boromir's cheek. "Sweet boy," she said fondly, and  Boromir grinned, grabbing her fingers.  
  
"Good night, Mag, Nall," I said. "And thank you again."  
  
"Good night, dears," Mag said, and Nall echoed her.  
  
Boromir yawned, "Night," and waved sleepily at them, and as we began to make our way down the corridor, I heard Mag's soft, pleased laughter. 


	3. Chapter 3

Boromir fell asleep before we reached the nursery, and did not stir when I lay him in his crib. I stayed awake for a short while longer, thinking over what Mag had said to me, and decided that I had been quite silly for being so worried. All I had to do was keep my composure, explain what Olleth had accused me of, and look suitably chastised if necessary. I knew before I spoke to Mag that Lady Finduilas was not a flighty, high-strung woman; I had just gotten carried away by my own anxiety.

However, knowing all this did not make me less nervous when I awoke the next day. Boromir was in high spirits as I prepared a bath for him - he had been very restless the previous night, and I had been too troubled to argue with him about it - but now he happily splashed in the tub, chattering away in half-intelligible sentences **.** As my skirt was soaked by a spray of water, I wondered, with some amusement, how two people as quiet and restrained as Lord Denethor and Lady Finduilas had managed to produce such a boisterous little boy. Then the little boy in question grinned at me, and I could not help but be grateful that Boromir was not a meek, delicate child. "Are you nearly finished, duckling?" I asked, grinning back.

"No," he replied, shaking his head and sending droplets of water all over me. "No, I like water!" And he began quacking, which never failed to make me laugh.

I let him play; he was much easier to handle when confined to the tub, and I used the time to think and prepare myself for his mother's visit. I was willing to do or say most anything that was necessary to in order to keep my position; I did not know what I would do without Boromir to look after. Though I sincerely hoped Lady Finduilas did not want me to apologize to Olleth. I did not think she deserved an apology.

The morning seemed to drag on forever. I was ready to have this talk with the Lady Finduilas over and done with, so I could stop fretting about what she might have to say to me.

Boromir kept me distracted from my worries, asking me over and over if we were going to the kitchens again. I had already decided to take him to see Mag more often - she had seemed to enjoy his presence. I could not tell if Boromir wanted to see Mag, or if he simply wanted to explore an unfamiliar place, but when I told him that sometime we would indeed go visit the kitchens again, he clapped his hands in glee. "Now, we go now?"

"Later," I promised, knowing that at this age he had no concept of when "later" might be. This satisfied him, and he went back to his toys, singing a song of his own making that consisted solely of the words "rusks and tea".

Finally it was time for luncheon, though I could not manage more than a few bites. That sick feeling was back in the pit of my stomach, and no amount of scolding myself did anything to banish it. Boromir, as usual, ate anything placed in front of him, but he was not yet adept at using a spoon, and I ended up with mashed carrots on the front of my dress. Sighing inwardly, I washed his face and hands, and put him down for his nap. For once, he did not protest, only asked for his stuffed pony, and was asleep within moments.

I hurried to make certain that I was presentable - it would not do to receive the Lady Finduilas with flyaway hair and food all over my clothing. I was just dabbing at the turnip-stain when a knock came at the door, and my stomach lurched. I took a deep breath, which did little to steady me, and went to greet her.

Lady Finduilas was followed by one of the kitchen girls, who was carrying a large tray that bore a teapot, cups, and several small plates of biscuits and breads. The kitchen girl set these on the table as I managed a smile and a curtsey. "Good afternoon, my lady," I said, hoping I did not look as apprehensive as I felt. I also felt rather like a street urchin next to Lady Finduilas- my drab gown was wrinkled and not entirely clean, hers was a brocade of emerald green, pressed and spotless; my hair was pulled back in an almost severe, yet haphazard braid, hers was a charming creation of artful curls, nary a hair out of place. It only increased my tension to appear so unkempt when Lady Finduilas was so polished.

She did not seem to notice the differences in our appearances. "Good afternoon," she replied with a warm smile that did much to relax me. "Come, sit here with me, and we shall talk." She moved toward the table, making me envious of the graceful way she walked.

The kitchen girl threw me a glance and, to my surprise, flashed a smile. "Shall you need anything else, my lady?" she asked, bobbing a quick curtsey.

"No, this is quite enough," Lady Finduilas said. "Please convey my thanks to Mag."

I reached for the pot, asking, "How do you like your tea, my lady?" and jumped when Lady Finduilas laid her hand on my wrist. Her skin was cool, and very smooth.

"I can see that you are nervous," she said, not unkindly. "I wish to discuss this ..situation with you, but before we begin, I would like to put your mind at ease, and tell you that there is no need for you to worry."

I was too startled to speak. She took advantage of my confusion by taking the pot from my hands ** ~~,~~** and pouring the tea for both of us herself, as if it were normal for a woman of her position to serve a woman of mine.

Lady Finduilas gave me a moment to prepare my tea and select a bit of the food provided -- I had time to wonder how Mag knew I liked gingersnaps, and to note that she had sent rusks as well. Then my lady said, "I would like you to tell me what happened with Olleth. I have heard other people's versions of the story; now I should like to hear it from you."

I did not look at Lady Finduilas -- this was difficult enough for me. "She…Olleth, that is…she made accusations that were insulting, both to me and to my lady's family." I was not foolish to think that was enough of an explanation, but I wanted to make certain I phrased my words carefully.

There was a silence, then Lady Finduilas said, "What type of accusations?"

I dared to look up at her, and saw neither anger nor impatience in her eyes. She was serene, and that horrible twisting in my stomach eased just a bit.

"She…made certain implications concerning…um…the Lord Denethor .." my face was growing hot, and I had to force the words out, "…and improprieties …." I floundered, losing any of the words I had prepared, and took refuge in my teacup.

"With you?" Lady Finduilas' voice was gentle, and when I looked at her, I saw compassion on her face.

"Yes," I nodded, my voice no more than a whisper.

Lady Finduilas took a sip of her tea. "I had thought it might be something like that," she revealed, "though I had not heard this in so many words."

I wondered how she had heard at all - surely no-one would be stupid enough to spread gossip within Lady Finduilas' hearing. I was also astonished at her easy acceptance of Olleth's words. Was that her entire reaction? Only understanding?

"And your response was to throw her out of the nursery?"

I nodded again. "Yes, my lady," I replied. "I -- I lost my temper, and told her that she was not to set foot in the nursery again. I should not have -- it was very ill-done."

I was taken aback when Lady Finduilas gave a wry smile, an expression that was very out of place on her delicate face. "I would beg to differ."

"My -- my lady?" I was puzzled. "I am sorry, but I do not understand."

She nibbled at a frosted biscuit, and with a start, I realized that she was giving herself time to gather her thoughts, as if she were as concerned about her words as I was about mine. "You have not had many dealings with gossip about yourself, have you?"

"No," I admitted. "We are not a highly-placed family, my lady, and I am only the eldest daughter. There are many people more interesting than me in Dol Amroth."

Lady Finduilas nodded.. "I thought as much," she said, leaning towards me. "I am afraid, my dear, that you will have to learn to ignore such gossip, now that you are in my lord husband's employ. Many women -- women with far more experience and higher connections -- were resentful that I chose you, rather than one of them. Resentful women are often spiteful women, and I daresay that some will continue to try to tarnish your reputation."

A thought occurred to me. "Was -- did Olleth want this position?"

"Oh, yes," Lady Finduilas said, a small smile on her lips, "she was certain that she would be the one to care for my children."

I pondered this, then said, "Your pardon, my lady -- but I still do not understand why you are not…angry with me for losing my temper, and in front of Boromir and his playmate, as well! Was I not overstepping my bounds, to have her escorted out?"

"It is regrettable that the children had to witness the scene," Lady Finduilas said, "and if you are so determined to be scolded, I can certainly rebuke you. However --" I breathed a sigh of relief, "--you were well within your bounds."

I must have had a very odd look on my face, for Lady Finduilas laughed. "The insult Olleth delivered was quite beyond bearing," she told me, and for the first time, I saw a flash of anger in my lady's eyes, "and if she was foolish enough to say such things to your face, then she should have expected you to respond _._. She will not be coming back to the nursery - you may trust me in that."

"Thank you, my lady," I said, though those words did little to convey my full gratitude. "I _am_ sorry that Boromir and Culas had to see it, but she ---" unexpectedly, my temper was rising, and it was with an effort that I held it in check. "I will learn to pay no attention to vile talk in the future."

"You _will_ hear yourself maligned again," she said, now solemn."It is something you will not be able to avoid, as you are now part of a noble household, in a highly sought after position. You must not only disregard these slurs against your character-- you must not let it affect you. I do believe that you acted properly in confronting Olleth as you did on this occasion; however --" she grew stern and I shrank back a bit in my chair,

"you cannot respond so vehemently to anyone who insults you. You are a bright girl - I trust that you know the difference between a true insult, and wagging tongues that are only trying to bait you into reacting?"

I had to swallow before I could say, "Yes, my lady. I do. And I will find a way to keep my composure."

She reached for her teacup, looking pleased at my answer. "After hearing Olleth's tale-- and people _will_ hear it, mark my words -- I do not think that anyone will dare speak slander in your presence again. It will be much easier to ignore those who whisper behind your back. And do not worry," she smiled so warmly that I could not help but smile back, "those who are aquainted with you know malicious gossip when they hear it. It will not be believed by those with a shred of common sense."

It was somehow comforting to hear Mag's words echoed by the Lady Finduilas, and I was preparing to thank my lady yet again when a noise caught my ear. Surely he could not be awake already?

"Your pardon, my lady," I said, standing. "I think I hear Boromir stirring."

It did not occur to me to wait until she granted me leave; I simply hurried into Boromir's room. He was not awake - he still lay under his blanket, clutching his pony - but he was tossing and fretful. I knew this meant he would soon wake in a fussy mood. The only way to soothe him when he was like this was to walk with him, so I picked him up, and he subsided when I cradled him against my shoulder.

"Is he awake?" Lady Finduilas' low voice made me start.

"Not quite," I said, turning so she could see his face. He then proved me a liar by lifting his head, and looking around the room groggily.

I thought it odd that my lady did not immediately take him from me. I did notice that she was watching Boromir with a look in her eyes that I could not interpret. Somehow, that gaze also made her seem more approachable, so I took a chance, and asked her the question that had been bothering me for months.

"My lady," I said hesitantly, "if ..if I may ….why _did_ you chose me, rather than one of those other women?" I had been shocked to discover that my lady even knew who I _was --_ I had never met her before I arrived in Minas Tirith, and we were related only peripherally by a tangle of marriages so convoluted that no-one but a scholar (or my mother) could trace the relation.

Lady Finduilas smiled. "You were child-tending at a banquet some years ago, and you were so patient and kind to the little ones and managed them so easily that I thought, 'That is the kind of woman I want to care for my children.'" She laughed softly, and Boromir looked up at the sound, reaching for her. Now she took him from me, and held him close, murmuring into his ear.

I did not remember any particular banquet -- my mother was so enamored of her connections to Dol Amroth's ruling family, no matter how distant, that she dragged us to any banquet we could feasibly attend, and, with five younger siblings, I was _always_ child-tending. Of course I did not say this.

She continued, as Boromir played with her curls, "But why should I have gotten a woman _like_ you, when I could just as easily get you yourself?" Her smile faded. "And I did not want a woman of Minas Tirith tending my son -- he will be consumed by this City soon enough. I wanted a woman of my own land."

For an instant, Lady Finduilas' tone was somewhere between bitter and resigned, but in the next moment, she was smiling again, running her fingers through Boromir's sleep-tousled hair. "I did not want a woman who looked at my little one as just another in a long line of children," she said, attention fixed on her son, "I wanted someone who would truly care for him and keep him safe." She gave me an appraising glance. "I believe I chose well."

I was blushing again - compliments tended to make me very uncomfortable - and managed, "Thank you, my lady. You have done me a great service."

Lady Finduilas smiled, and for the first time, I saw that Boromir had his mother's smile. "Must he go back to sleep?" she asked, and I was as startled by her wistful voice as I was by the fact that she was deferring to me, in regards to his care.

"He will not go back to sleep now," I said, perhaps a bit too ruefully, for my lady laughed quietly, and Boromir giggled in reply. "Once he is awake, he is awake 'til bedtime."

"Not bedtime!" Boromir scowled. "Time for snack?"

"Yes, duckling, it is time for a snack," I said, laughing at his fierce expression. "And there is a special treat for you today."

"Rusks?" he gasped, starting to squirm in his mother's arms. "Down, please!"

Lady Finduilas set him on his feet -- reluctantly, I noted -- and Boromir tugged at her hand. "Rusks, Mama -- come!"

Her face lit up at his persistence, and she allowed him to pull her toward the playroom. I followed, smiling at his excitement.

I set him in his chair, and was beginning to prepare a plate for him when I realized that Lady Finduilas was hesitating. "My lady?" I asked. "Is something amiss?"

"I should like to stay," she said, and again I was taken aback by how she seemed to be asking _me_ for permission.

"He is your son, my lady," I pointed out, hoping I did not sound impertinent, "and this is your household."

Lady Finduilas looked at me, and that indefinable expression was back in her eyes. She made as if to speak, but Boromir piped up, "Sit, Mama! Sit here!"

She laughed in delight, and obeyed, and Boromir began talking so rapidly that even I could not make out most of the words.

I did not try to involve myself in the conversation, unless Boromir spoke to me, or Lady Finduilas asked for a translation. She had little enough time with him, and he was overjoyed to have his mother with him for even a short while. I watched them, smiling into my cup, and tried not to think on why she occasionally seemed so far away.


End file.
